You're Not Fooling Me
by Sting4052
Summary: It's the year 2018. What's our favorite crime-fighting couple up to? Find out in this multi-chapter story which is complete. That's important because I'm tired of falling in love with stories that fade away or never end. I will be posting three chapters right away and then a chapter a day until the conclusion. I'm giving this an M mostly for language and a smidge of sexy times.
1. Let the Tears Fall

**Summer 2018**

Why is this so hard? Andy is sitting less than 20 feet away from me, but I feel like he's 100 miles away. We're not fighting. We're not talking. We're not doing anything, and that's the problem. What the hell is wrong with you? I wish I could say that to him. Why can't I just open my mouth and say that? Maybe, I don't really want to know the answer. I haven't seen him smile in days.

"You want something to drink?" he asks me on his way to the kitchen. I just shake my head no, and continue to study the blueprints laid out in front of me on the dining room table. I'm doing some consulting for the LA Convention Center. The venue has major security issues, and I've been hired to help improve their security policies and procedures. I really didn't want to take on a task this large so soon after retiring from Major Crimes, but the money was just too good to turn down.

As Andy walks back by me with a bottle of water, I instinctively reach for his arm and pull him to me. "Do you mind turning off the game so we can talk?" I ask him. "Sharon, it's tied up in the bottom of the 9th. Can it wait?" I just shrug my shoulders and tell him never mind. He didn't even hesitate to pull away from me and head back to the TV. I guess that tells me just about all I need to know.

When the game ends I expect him to talk to me, but that's not what happens. He just stretches and yawns loudly as he heads to bed. I didn't even get a good night peck on the cheek. I can't concentrate on these damn blueprints. I want a drink and a cigarette. I pour a very generous glass of white wine, and root around in the junk drawer, in the kitchen, for my pack of American Spirit and an ashtray. Thank God, there's two cigarettes left. I've had this pack for six months because I don't smoke that much, only when I need to relax. I head out to the balcony. He hates it when I smoke, and what he doesn't know isn't going to hurt him.

I know I'm probably not fooling him. He can smell smoke on me. That won't really be a problem though because he doesn't get close enough to me to smell anything lately. I've been drinking too much the past few days. It's not like me and it bothers me. I'm not an alcoholic. I can take it or leave it. Right now, I'm going to take it until I finish what's left in the bottle.

I love this time of night. The city lights are beautiful and the breeze feels nice. I enjoy my quiet time. Andy and I spend most nights together, but he still has his place. Most people would think it's odd how we've arranged our lives around each other, but it works for us. At least, I think it does.

I try to be as quiet as possible when I finally get in bed. Andy is asleep curled on his side, and clinging to the edge of the bed. It's as if he wants to be as far from me as possible. I gently reach out and touch his back with the palm of my hand. He doesn't wake up. I leave my hand in place, and I can feel his deep breaths in and out. Just this simple touch brings tears to my eyes.


	2. The Jerk

I'm pretending to be asleep. Even so, the touch of Sharon's hand on my back startles me. I know she wants to talk. She's wondering why I'm being so moody. I should roll over and give her a kiss, but then she'd insist on talking about what's bothering me and I just don't want to do that. I'm being a jerk. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. Once again, I've let my temper get the best of me. This time she'll suffer the repercussions and it's all my fault. We'll have to talk in the morning because I'm running out of time.

I wake up 30 minutes before the alarm is set to go off. Sharon is draped over me and still sound asleep. Her hair is everywhere and it makes me smile. I love how silky it feels on my chest. Glancing down at the top of her head I still marvel at the fact we're together. I spent years not liking her. I always thought she was hot, but I also thought she was a bitch. I was wrong. I'm wrong a lot, but she still loves me.

I've asked her to marry me at least 10 times these past three years. She always says no. Two gold bands and a piece of paper that says we're married is not what she wants. She had that with Jack, and it didn't mean anything for most of their marriage. When Jack died last year she was sad, but mostly for her kids. Cirrhosis of the liver finally caught up with him.

I should go back to sleep 'til the alarm goes off, but I'd rather lay here with her in my arms and enjoy this. My mind drifts back to the first time I held her in this bed. She had taken a sick day from work because of a severe head cold. It happened to be the exact same day we found out Stroh had been captured in Prague. I drove like a maniac from the office to tell her the news in person. I wasn't feeling great that day either, but we were both so happy that Stroh had been captured and the ordeal was over.

We were sitting and talking on the couch and then we were kissing. I'm a little fuzzy on how we got from the couch to the bed, but that's where we spent the rest of that day and night. I have to hand it to Provenza. He never gave me a hard time about not returning to work that day. From that point forward we've been together and I've never been happier. That's the date we celebrate as our anniversary every year.


	3. Bedding the Boss

"Andy, you're not fooling me," I say. "I know you're awake and you're going to tell me what's bothering you." I push the hair out of my eyes and sit up in bed as he shuts off the alarm.

"Sharon, do you remember two nights ago when you had dinner with the head of operations for the convention center?"

"Yeah, I discussed my consulting contract with him. His name is Niles Grant. You had dinner the same night with Provenza and Patrice," I say, "and ever since you've been acting weird."

"I know and I'm sorry, but something happened at dinner and I didn't handle it well," Andy says. "We ran into an old friend we used to work with and he joined us for dessert. He retired from the force years ago, but he was eager to catch up on all the gossip."

"Does this old friend have a name?" I ask.

"It's Steve Riggans, and he had some choice words to say about you. Of course, he had no idea we're together," Andy tells me.

"I don't even remember him, Andy."

"I'm sure you don't. He's not all that memorable, Sharon. He didn't have a very distinguished career, but he's been trying to do some security consulting, and apparently you got the contract he thought should have been his. He said the only reason you got it is because you're sleeping with Grant."

"That's why you've been upset?" I ask. "You know that's not true."

"Of course I know that babe, but just hear me out," he says. "Riggans is friends with the head of security at the convention center and that's who told him you're bedding his boss."

"Okay, let me get this straight," I say. "I'm sleeping with the head of operations according to the head of security and that's why I was awarded the contract."

"Exactly," says Andy, "but that's not the end of the story, unfortunately. I didn't even say anything about it to you because it was just bullshit, but the more I thought about it, the madder I got. Yesterday, I went to the convention center and had a little conversation with the security guy."

"Oh, please don't tell me you threw a punch at the man Andy."

"Okay, I won't tell you. Let's just drop it and go make breakfast," he says while climbing out of bed and heading to the kitchen.

"Get back here and tell me the rest of the story," I holler at him.

"There's not much to tell," Andy says over his shoulder. "I punched the fat slob in the stomach, and left the building while the idiot was still doubled over sucking wind."

This is a problem. I'm scheduled to meet with both men this afternoon to go over my preliminary findings regarding their security program.


	4. Colors

Andy made us delicious omelets for breakfast. When he cooks, I clean. I'm standing at the kitchen sink, preparing to load the dishwasher and I can feel Andy behind me. He has molded the front of his body to the back of mine. My instinct is to forget the dishes, turn around and wrap myself around him. I know from experience that's not what he wants. He wants me to carry on with the dishes while his hands roam free. He's caressing my breasts over my pajamas. It's just the right amount of pressure. When his lips meet the curve of my neck with soft, feather-light, back and forth brush strokes all I can do is roll my head to the side and pray he doesn't stop.

It's really funny because his mouth has gotten him in so much hot water over the years, but his mouth is very talented. Every few seconds he'll blow on the spot where he just brushed my neck. He's actually making me light-headed. I can feel his hardness press into me and I push back from behind. Just when I think I can't take this one more second he steps back slightly and cups my ass. "You look luscious this morning," he whispers in my ear.

"Andy, to hell with the dishes. Let's go to the bedroom."

"Not so fast. We don't have to be in a rush. We have all the time in the world today," he reassures me.

I think to myself that's not exactly true because I need to get ready for my afternoon meeting, but I don't really want to think about the meeting right now.

He turns me around and slowly unbuttons my pajama top while staring at me with an almost defiant look in his eyes. He purposely lets the top hang open so he can just see the swell of my breasts. He lowers himself to his knees and raises his arms up into my clothes. His cheek is resting on my belly and his hands are kneading my breasts. I'm bending slightly and rubbing his back. I need more contact so I reach for his hands and pull him up.

We finally kiss, and it feels like he's trying to tell me that he's sorry for being a jerk; sorry for disappointing me; sorry for sometimes making my life more complicated. Those words aren't actually coming out of his mouth, but his mouth is letting me feel the words. I don't have to hear them. This is how it's been with us since the first time we made love. Safe and dangerous. Familiar and strange. Strong and soft. I don't know, maybe it's our age. Sex isn't just black and white. It's a million shades of amber, purple, verbena, cornsilk and citrine.

We don't even make it to the bedroom. He leans me over the bar fully clothed with my top still open. I can't see what he's doing, but I can feel him lower my pajama bottoms. I step out of them and start to lower my panties when he hugs me tightly from behind. I can't move my arms. His head rests in the crook of my neck and I feel moisture drop onto my chest.

I turn around and his eyes are wet. Tracing a finger through his tears, I want to tell him it's going to be okay. We're going to be okay. Instead, I take off my panties, turn around and lean back down. He enters me from behind. He's not gentle or slow. He's taking what he needs and I'm more than fine with it. I know we're going to be okay.


	5. Digging in the Dirt

I can breathe easier now. I don't have to feel like I'm walking on egg shells around Andy. We're finally back on the same page. I don't have to know every little thing he says and does, but it's so obvious when something is wrong with him. I'm not quite that simple. I'm really good at not revealing all my cards. I haven't told Andy that Grant has put major moves on me. The man is smooth and very handsome. He thought he was charming me at dinner, but he was really creeping me out. I don't believe for one second that he's attracted to me based on a couple of meetings in his office and one dinner meeting at Spago.

After clarifying a few contract details while we ate, he started asking me very personal questions and complimenting my appearance. I was able to deflect his questions and be polite, but he's not my boss. The taxpayers are financing my contract based on an internal audit conducted by the city. Security was found lacking, and the auditor has retained my services to evaluate and resolve the issues.

After dinner, Grant suggested we go to his favorite bar and have a drink. That wasn't going to happen, and I made myself perfectly clear on the subject. I haven't seen or heard from him since, but something is rotten and it stinks. I've got to get to the bottom of this. After hearing what Andy had to tell me and what I found out from Tao yesterday, I'm very concerned I've involved myself in something more complex than just security issues.

I'm no longer Tao's boss, but he helped me out yesterday by running a background check on Grant. It seems the man has had an impressive career with lots of accolades and friends in high places; however, Tao kept digging past the first impressive layer and has uncovered an irregularity. Grant earns a six-figure income in his position, but his lifestyle is much more extravagant and exclusive than his yearly salary would indicate.

There could be family money involved. That's one of the items I need to ask Tao to investigate further. Also, I've seen the security budget and it's substantial. There's more than enough money allocated, but I'm already seeing some discrepancies. There could be reasonable explanations for all my concerns, but I have a lot more digging to do.


	6. Time is on my Side

Their heads are barely visible in the audio/visual booth atop the convention center. Two men are talking, and inspecting the internal security cameras in preparation for their afternoon meeting with Sharon Raydor. "So, is Raydor as hot in bed as she is standing in your office?"

"Good God Ken, could you be a little more crude?" asks Grant.

"Hey, I'm not the one who describes in intimate detail everything I intend to do to her," replies Ken Fisher, head of security at the convention center.

"Well, I can't give you an answer yet," Grant says sarcastically, "but I'm getting there. I just need a little more time."

"Time is the one thing we don't have," says Fisher. "You assured me you would handle this boss. Use your charm, and persuade her to back off."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do," says Grant, "it's true my first attempt was met with resistance, but I'm going to keep trying. It's not going to happen overnight. If your department hadn't failed the audit we wouldn't even be talking about this."

"You and I both know why we didn't pass inspection," Fisher replies, "and if I'm going down so are you."

"Nobody is going down," Grant says. "Just be cool, and try to be as professional as possible. She's going to be here any minute. Just remember to stall her when you can. I need more time."

Fisher fails to mention his little run-in with Andy Flynn. This should be a very interesting meeting.


	7. The Law of Attraction

What makes a person attractive to another person? What is the exact thing? Is it more than one thing? Of course it is, I think to myself. There are a thousand things about Sharon that are sexy to me. She doesn't even have to be in the room to attract me. Sometimes, I enter the bathroom after she's had a bath, and the smell of vanilla mingled with lavender is enough to make me hard. When I make our bed and see the slight indentation her body made in the mattress I want to rest in the spot where she rested. I can watch her reach up in the cabinet for a glass and I have to touch her.

The brush she uses on her hair; the lipstick she smears on her lips; the $50 bottle of moisturizer she delicately applies around her eyes; these are just things, but when I watch her hold them in her hands I'm mesmerized. Is this the same woman I once mocked? The same woman who made me so angry I wanted to shake her at times. I can still get upset with her. The smoking thing drives me crazy. She thinks she's fooling me, but I know there's a pack of smokes in the junk drawer under a corkscrew, a pack of expired batteries and a box of toothpicks which I never touch. She hates seeing me with a toothpick in my mouth.

I hear her come in the door. "Uhm, something smells good," she calls out to me.

"It's dinner and it's almost ready," I say, "but first I want to hear about your meeting."

"I was really nervous about it," she tells me as she steps out of her heels. "I had no idea what to expect. Especially after your little incident with the head of security. By the way, his name is Ken Fisher."

"I don't give a damn what his name is," I interject. "He better stop talking shit about you or there's going to be another incident."

"Andy you can't do that. You can't just go around punching people," she says with exasperation. "This is my job now, and I have to make it work with these people. I don't want to lose this contract. At least, I don't think I do."

"What do you mean," I ask.

"I'm just getting started with my evaluation, but there's bad discrepancies with the numbers," she says. "Their security equipment is old, and very out-dated. They basically have no procedures in place. It's a real mess."

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you babe. Let's sit down and eat. Then I'm going to watch the Dodgers on TV. "

I can't help but roll my eyes when Andy tells me he's going to watch another Dodger's game on TV tonight. I like baseball, and he and I have been to several Dodger games, but it's boring watching it on TV. He doesn't agree, he loves watching it in person or on TV. He's doing that sexy thing to me right now where he's grinning and staring at me with his head tilted down. He's trying to charm me into watching the game with him. I can't resist him when he's looking at me like that. What's he done to me? I was so ambivalent about sex for years. It was kind of like alcohol as far as I was concerned. I could take it or leave it even before my marriage to Jack completely fell apart. My marriage to him was a joke, but my career was not. I knew how crucial it was to maintain a sterling reputation in my line of work. I basically turned my libido off.

Andy has flipped the libido switch back on. That can sometimes be a real inconvenience. Like right now, we're sitting down to eat and as he hands me the bowl of pasta his forearm flexes. Just that one simple action makes my face flush and my internal temperature rise. I resist the strong urge to run the arch of my foot up his calf and between his inner thighs under the table. I can't start something that I don't have time to finish. After dinner, I have a lot of reading to do and no time for sex or the Dodgers.

That doesn't stop me from thinking about the deep sound he makes from his chest, a low hum, when he pulls my nipple into his mouth with a sharp inhalation, or the way he dips his head between my breasts and takes a deep breath before sliding out of me and hovering over my body for what seems like an eternity. Just when I think the anticipation can't get any worse, he thrusts back into me hard and holds himself like a statue inside me. Move, move, move. I want you to move I think and maybe I even say out loud. That's when he climaxes inside me, and my muscles spasm around him. Exquisite. I don't want him to move off me. I wrap myself around him even tighter and think that if I die right now that's okay. There's certainly nothing ambivalent about that.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me from the other side of the table.

"Oh nothing," I answer. "I'm just tired. After we eat I have a lot of budget figures to analyze before bed. You're going to have to give me a rain check on the game."


	8. Stepping on Toes

This situation reminds me of the first few months I was put in charge of Major Crimes. Leading a team of distrustful and defensive people who didn't really know me was not easy, and this is not easy. No one likes change, but people have to be open to it. Significant changes need to be made at the convention center for the benefit of the general public and the staff.

I can write policies and procedures all day long, but it's up to Ken Fisher to make sure implementation is accomplished. I can't seem to make him understand how important it is for every person from the maintenance staff to the head of operations be trained to put safety and security first. Fisher is incompetent and a blabber mouth. He's more interested in avoiding me than doing his job. I can't fathom how the man got his position or how he's kept it. I suspect Niles Grant is protecting him, but why would he do that?

I have the opposite problem with Niles Grant. I can't get rid of him. I can't turn a corner in this place without literally running into him. He stands too close, and acts too familiar with me. I've turned down a half-dozen dinner invitations. I can't even interview his staff without him insisting on being present. No one is going to speak freely about safety and security concerns with the boss staring at them. This isn't productive, and I'm beyond frustrated.

I'm working in one of the empty conference rooms at the facility. The door is shut and the blinds are drawn because I do not want to be disturbed. Grant barges in without knocking first, and pulls up a chair right next to mine. He leans in to me as he's trying to see what's on my laptop screen. My instinct is to move away from him, but before I can do that he grazes my breast with his hand as he reaches out to pull my computer closer.

That's it. I've had it. Enough is enough. Without a word I close my laptop, gather the rest of my things and walk out of the room. He tries to follow, and I keep walking and taking deep breaths to calm down. He's just talking to me as if nothing happened. I was proud to get this contract, but no job is worth putting up with this nonsense. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, but for right now I'm out of here.

By the time I meet Andy for lunch I've calmed down. I'm not saying a word to him about Grant. All I need is for Andy to fly off the handle and create more problems. Working for Major Crimes, we were lucky if we had five minutes to eat a slice of pizza at our desks. It's such a luxury now to be able to enjoy a long lunch together. Andy retired ten months before I did, and four months after Provenza. At first, I was concerned he would have too much time on his hands. That's not a good thing for him. He needs to stay busy or else he just might get in trouble.

He sponsors three people in AA, and he's started consulting for a new HBO crime drama which will air in a few months. He also loves spending time with Nicole and her growing family. Andy is a natural grandpa, and it makes me smile to watch him with Nicole's stepsons, and her one-year-old daughter who has the most beautiful, dark brown eyes.

It was a hard decision for me to retire. I loved my job, but I wanted more free time with Andy, and we'd like to do some traveling at some point. My kids are thriving. Emily is engaged. Ricky has started a new dot com, and Rusty will graduate from college soon with a fine arts degree. I'm looking forward to some smooth sailing, but I've got to get the current fiasco behind me.


	9. Friends in High Places

After lunch I head downtown to the department of internal audits for the city. I need to speak with Ally Hill. She conducted the audit of the convention center which ultimately resulted in my being hired as a consultant. We need to compare notes. "Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice," I say.

"That's no problem, Ms. Raydor. I've actually been expecting to hear from you sooner or later. Have a seat."

"Please call me Sharon. I wanted to talk to you today because, as you are aware, there are major issues with the management of the convention center. The most obvious problems involve the security department, but I'm also finding budget discrepancies. There are expenditures for big ticket items like new security cameras; however, the cameras aren't installed. When I ask to inspect them, or at least see the corresponding receipts, I'm led on a wild goose chase."

"Let me guess," Ally interjects. "You've had to fend off the advances of Niles Grant."

"How did you know that?" I ask.

"Because I had to do the same thing," she answers. "I spent weeks getting the run around you're getting. My audit uncovered so much dirt. Not to mention, the blatant sexual harassment I endured. Grant was laying it on thick with me. I guess he really thought I would back off because he's good looking and well connected. As soon as I had the information I needed, I immediately went to my supervisor. Weeks went by and I never heard another word about it. The audit results were buried, and I was told to keep my mouth shut if I wanted to keep my job. Sharon, I'm a single mom with two kids. I need this job. The only concession I was given was an assurance that a consultant would be brought in to improve safety and security issues. Niles Grant has powerful connections in this city."

"Ally, I can tell you that he isn't the only one with powerful connections. I'm going to put a stop to this man no matter how high up the food chain I have to go. I'm retired and I don't have to worry about retaining my job."

"That's wonderful, but be careful about stepping on toes and please keep my name out of it. I've had this job 10 years. I can't afford to start over at the bottom in a different job."

"I'll do my best to keep you out of it," I assure her before leaving her office.


	10. The Odd Couple

Despite being expelled from three prep schools by the time he was 18, Niles Grant was still the apple of his mother's eye. She loved him much more than she loved his father. The animosity in the Grant household was heavy and oppressive; all the more reason for Niles to stay away. There was always a fun time going on somewhere. If he wasn't sailing in Newport he was playing tennis in Palm Springs. There was one small problem. He had no prospects for furthering his education. His father and grandfather were Yale alumni. That wasn't in the cards for him with barely passing grades and a long list of infractions. No Ivy League institution would consider him no matter how large a donation Daddy made.

His father could certainly grease the wheels at a smaller, private university in Denver. He hated the cold, but he actually enjoyed his studies in broadcast journalism. His looks and smooth manner fit perfectly with a career as a television reporter. Of course, his ultimate goal was to be an anchorman on either the right or left coast after putting in adequate time in the trenches. Abilene, Texas was dusty and desolate and a tiny TV market. There was nothing glamorous about his job. Interviewing the young, pimple-scarred manager of Kentucky Fried Chicken after a break-in wasn't going to get him noticed by the major affiliates. He was very aware of this fact.

Consoling himself at the local watering hole took up much of his free time. He always had his cameraman and compadre, Ken Fisher, by his side. They could be drinking or filming a segment for the evening newscast. It didn't matter what they were doing; what mattered was the fact they were doing it together, combining their talents was proving to be successful. Ken knew Niles was restless and unhappy and it made him nervous. He liked Abilene and he liked his job. He didn't want Niles moving on without him, but it was inevitable.

Phoenix was the next stop for Niles followed a year later by a job offer in Los Angeles. He hadn't seen Ken since he left Abilene, but they talked on the phone a couple of times a month. Ken was skilled at his job; he knew how to make Niles look good and Niles missed that. Niles made it possible for Ken to move to California, and join him as a member of the Action 8 News Center team.

As a popular reporter Niles had more than his share of friends and invitations to prestigious events. Perfect, straight white teeth; a trim build; charming sense of humor and a seemingly endless source of money endeared him to the country club crowd. He was comfortable in that environment. He and his wife, Missy, spent most evenings entertaining judges, media moguls, and politicians. Missy was from a prominent LA family. Her father liked Niles, but he wanted him to be more ambitious. There was always family money, on both sides. Still, TV reporters weren't millionaires even in Los Angeles and her father wanted more for Missy.

Anchor positions are rarely available. Niles could see the handwriting on the wall. He would be a balding, middle-age man with a gut before he would get a shot at his dream job. Missy's father had to call in a few favors, but he helped Niles land a position as director of communications for the junior senator from California. The salary was only slightly higher, but he now had entrée into the world of politics. It was a natural fit. He was born for it, and he was good at it. His old friend, Ken, stayed on in broadcasting. The two remained buddies, and Ken was always loyal to the man who made it possible for him to have a better career in a bigger market.

Niles was assured a bright future. That was before he met Erica. She ran the LA office for the senator. She and Niles were combustible. They clashed almost constantly, but the sexual chemistry was dynamite. He fell into an affair easily. Erica was young, beautiful and very troubled. Cocaine was their drug of choice. It fueled their days enabling them to work twice as hard as most people. Their nights were spent together usually drinking at some political event or fundraiser. His marriage was over, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to his closest friends and a few co-workers that he couldn't handle the drugs and alcohol. What had been a bright future was looking pretty dim.

The senator lost his bid for re-election. Niles lost his job and Erica. He was always resilient though. Thankfully, his bad boy behavior was kept under wraps for the most part. Through his connections he was hired to be the head of operations for the LA Convention Center. He wasn't truly qualified for the position, but he certainly looked the part and he was still as smooth as ever. It was a good job, and he felt lucky to have it. He knew he had to clean up his act. Stop the drinking and drugs and stop the women. He could control the booze and with Erica out of the picture, cocaine was not as tempting as before. He would do a line every now and then, but it didn't rule his life. The problem was women.

Ken Fisher had problems too. Due to staff cutbacks he was laid off at the TV station. It didn't really bother him at the time. He was tired of chasing news stories with a heavy camera on his shoulder. He'd always had an interest in investigative work, and he was ready for something new. He joined a private investigation firm, and learned the ropes from the ground up. The firm offered various services; such as, running background checks for companies hiring new employees and providing security personnel for events and individuals, mostly celebrities, needing protection. Ken met a lot of police officers, including Steve Riggans, through his work coordinating off-duty cops to work as security personnel.

Money was always a little tight for Ken. Admittedly, he wasn't the best at handling his finances, but he had a little put aside from his days as a cameraman. He used that money to invest in the firm. He became business partners with his employers. Business was good, and after the September 11 terrorist attacks business was booming. His firm conducted background checks, and that area of the business took off after the attacks. There was also an increased need for security personnel. Financial success was new to Ken, and he made a classic rookie mistake. He left all financial matters to his partners. That was not a good idea. His two partners were skimming money straight from the top.

His firm went belly up to his great surprise when he showed up for work three years ago. His partners had cleaned out the bank account, and disappeared with everything that wasn't nailed down. That's when his old friend Niles Grant came to his rescue with a job offer at the convention center. Both were aware they were climbing back down the ladder of success, but at least they were a team again.


	11. Serene

Driving home from my meeting downtown I'm trying to put all the puzzle pieces together in my mind; corruption, embezzlement, sexual harassment. None of these nasty things are within my scope of work on this project. I could easily finish what I was hired to do and look the other way. I just can't do that. Men like Grant count on people looking the other way.

I've been looking forward to this evening. I even bought a new dress to wear for our dinner with Patrice and Provenza. They really are a lovely couple. She has softened his edges considerably. He's still grumpy, but he can be fun to be around. We're meeting them at the restaurant in an hour. Andy is in the bedroom getting ready when I get home. He's wearing a white dress shirt, underwear and dress socks and that's all. "That's a good look for you," I tell him, "it works for me, but I don't think you're going to get in the restaurant dressed like that."

"I guess we'll just have to stay home then," he says before leaning down and giving me a kiss. I'm tempted to deepen the kiss, but there's no time. This is Patrice's birthday and it would be rude to be late.

Andy is pulling up his brown slacks and I'm shaking my head no. "What's the problem?" he asks.

"You have to wear your blue slacks because my new dress is blue," I say. "We'll match."

Andy just rolls his eyes at me, but he switches slacks.

Dinner is good and I haven't laughed this much in a long time. Provenza wants to know what Rusty is up to. He hasn't seen him lately, but they usually try to get together every now and then.

"Sharon, you sure made an impression on Steve Riggans," Provenza says to me.

"I don't even know the man, and he's badly misinformed about how I obtained my consulting contract," I say in reply. "What do you guys know about Riggans?"

"Do we really have to talk shop tonight?" Andy asks.

I know why Andy doesn't want to talk about Riggans, but I'm trying to learn more.

Provenza reaches for the pepper and says, "He worked part-time security jobs a few years ago, and he's jealous of you, Sharon. I think he really needed that consulting contract. "

"Louis, please ask me to pass you the pepper instead of reaching," Patrice says with a small smile on her face.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

The waiter approaches our table with birthday cake and the subject of Riggans is dropped.

"By the way," Andy says in the car on the way home, "you look beautiful tonight."

I glance at him and smile. I noticed him noticing me all evening. That was the point of buying this dress and these heels. I generally dress pretty conservatively, but I'm retired now and I can show a little skin, but just a little. I think that's sexier than showing a lot of skin. A little sense of mystery is good. My collar is high, but the back of this dress plunges low which is why I'm wearing my hair up. Andy tickled his fingers across my exposed shoulder blades several times tonight. It felt like a feather and gave me goose bumps.

Andy wore suits for so many years it gives me a little thrill to see him wear jeans at times. My eyes will automatically track him walking through the house in jeans. He just smirks when he notices me noticing him. Of course, he also makes a big production of bending over to pick a pillow up off the floor. I wonder if he wonders why I'm always tossing pillows on the floor.

It feels good to lighten up and think about something silly like clothes instead of thinking about what I need to accomplish in the next few days. I know I can come across as too serious. That was a huge benefit to me at work; especially as a female in a male-dominated field. I could keep a poker face, and that forced people to guess what I was feeling and thinking. That was to my benefit. I learned that, and a few other little tricks, from my first mentor. She taught me to be calm in any situation. If people are acting agitated around me I purposely move very little. I make my gestures small. Serene is the word that comes to mind. My mentor was serene.

She also used silence to her advantage. That's the best trick of all. People will talk, yell, curse and I will sit serenely and simply not reply. Most people talk and then pause and expect me to talk back, but they don't know what to do when I don't respond. I just look at them. They get uncomfortable with the silence and start talking again or just leave. Either way, I'm off the hook. All these tricks usually work on Andy.

The silent, serene and serious trick didn't work on Grant today. I didn't respond when the jerk did what he did, but he didn't stop talking and he didn't leave. I did.


	12. Trouble in Paradise

**Winter 2018**

The shit has truly hit the fan for Ken Fisher. For the second time in his life, he's been screwed over by a partner, a compadre, a teammate. He's in jail and the mountain of evidence against him and Niles Grant is huge. They had been scamming the City for years. Turning in fake invoices for expensive equipment purchased from an outfit called Yale Enterprises. Of course, Yale Enterprises was owned by Niles Grant. That wasn't the only "company" Niles owned. There were several false companies and lots of fake invoices. No one suspected that Grant was cashing in and giving Fisher 25% of the cut for his cooperation.

Life was good until the surprise audit and Ally Hill. Grant didn't have much trouble making her go away. She was a pretty timid little mouse. When her supervisor approached Grant about all the graft Ally had uncovered it was just a simple matter of offering the supervisor's loser son the position of assistant head of operations at the convention center and problem solved.

Then Sharon Raydor came along and that was an even bigger problem. She wasn't a timid little mouse. Grant tried every trick in the book to throw her off the trail, but he knew he went too far when he tried to seduce her in the conference room. The day after that ugly scene, he called in sick to work. He needed a little time to execute his plan. No one ever saw him again.

Niles Grant was born and raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and no one ever told him no. Missy's family money went away when she went away, but the Grant family still had money, and he was still the apple of his mom's eye. His dad was a different story. After Niles lost his political job and his wife, his Dad finally said no. That was the end of unlimited funds. Being the resilient fellow he was, it didn't take him long to figure out how to supplement his income, and continue the lifestyle he so dearly loved.

Knock over one domino, and the rest of the dominos will fall quickly. Grant had been "out sick" for about three days when Sharon Raydor decided it was time to find him. He did not answer his phone or his door. It took a little time to obtain a search warrant, but Sharon still had some friends in high places and she made it happen. When officers finally entered his home most of his clothes and several suitcases were missing.

Sharon convinced Ally Hill it was safe to come forward with the incriminating audit. Hill's supervisor was fired, and is facing criminal charges for his part in the scheme. Ken Fisher was left holding the bag, and in exchange for a lighter sentence he turned on his good buddy who had already turned on him by disappearing. Fisher has very little to look forward to sitting in a cell. That's why he enjoys afternoon mail call. Today he received a post card with a picture of a beautiful, white sand beach. Someone had written this message on the back of the card: _This place is paradise. Wish you were here._ It was from Yale Enterprises and postmarked Cabo San Lucas. Grant mailed it to his compadre before moving on to Tahiti.


	13. All Good Things Must End

Andy and I had dinner with Ally Hill this evening. I really like her, and I'm so glad things worked out for her. She's now supervising her department so we took her out to celebrate. After dinner I decided to take a hot bath to relax before bedtime. I'm wrapped in a towel sitting on the edge of the tub when I hear Andy enter our bedroom. "Please come in here Lt. Flynn. I require your assistance." I say this using my authoritative, Captain Sharon Raydor, voice. Andy peeks his head around the door, and gets a big grin on his face when he sees how I'm dressed, and what I'm doing to my hair. I'm taking it down from the up-do and I love how it looks as it falls around my shoulders and down my back. I absolutely know Andy loves it too. Sometimes, my hair drives me crazy, and I briefly consider just cutting it short, but I'll never do it because of the look on his face now. As he approaches me, I begin slowly rubbing lotion on my skin. He's just staring at me. I put the tube down and give him the once over with my eyes.

"Captain Raydor, what can I do for you?"

"Well, it's more about what I can do for you Lt. Flynn."

"I like the sound of that," he says looking down at me.

He's a little surprised when I reach out, unsnap his jeans and tug them down. He starts to step out of his clothes, but I stop him by gliding the tip of my fingernail against the outline of his shaft through his underwear. It's fascinating to watch his erection grow before my eyes. I lean forward and nip at his length through the cotton. He's groaning and trying to push himself into my face. His hands are buried in my hair, and he's thrusting his hips in order to achieve closer contact.

I look up at him while pulling the waistband of his underwear out and down. Our eyes lock. He has that classic Lt. Flynn smirk on his face. He thinks he knows what's about to happen, but I have other plans and I'm the boss.

I release the towel from my body and pick up the lotion. Squeezing a generous amount on my chest I begin to rub it in while never breaking eye contact. Taking his erection in my hand, I guide him between my breasts. He smoothly begins an up and down motion setting a slow pace.

Actually, there's really not much in this for me, but the visual is so erotic and the sounds he's making are memorable.

Every third stroke, I bend down and take his tip between my lips. Just the tip. Sometimes, I do it lightly. Sometimes, I use more suction. Sometimes, I just watch him. When he tries to speed up I tell him not to be guilty of insubordination.

I could do this all night, but he can't. His groans and speed intensify. I want to prolong this because I'm really enjoying his enjoyment. The washcloth I used earlier is cold and damp next to me on the edge of the tub. I pick it up and press it to the tip of his shaft. I hear him hiss as if he's been injured. He can't really move because his jeans and underwear are halfway down his thighs.

I can see the confusion in his eyes. I'm not trying to be cruel. I'm just trying to slow things down. "Lt. Flynn, I strongly suggest you remove your clothes now." I don't have to tell him twice. By the time I leave the bathroom, and make it to the foot of our bed he walks up behind me and takes my hand. He's trying to pull me onto the bed with him, but he's not running this show.

I make him sit on the end of the bed and I straddle him. I love this because I can wrap my arms around him and press my upper body into his face. He's holding me with one hand, and using his other hand to guide his erection inside me. I've been wet and ready for him since I got in the bathtub.

This is why I'm so glad I chose to live without a man for most of my life. I could have had other men besides Jack, but I couldn't have had this with other men. This is more complex than just two people having sex. This is life. Hope. Light. Love.

All good things must come to an end, even a fantastic session of sex. That's a rule, and I like rules. Besides this is not a one-night stand. Andy's not leaving me. He's just going to the kitchen. "I know exactly what you want right now," he says as he walks out of the bedroom.

I'm thinking I highly doubt that because what I want is in the junk drawer under a box of toothpicks. Maybe he'll bring me some chocolate or a glass of wine or both.

He has a toothpick in his mouth when he comes back into our bedroom. "Lt. Flynn, I thought you understood you're not allowed toothpicks."

"Captain Raydor, I thought you understood you're not allowed cigarettes."

He's holding my cigarette up between his thumb and forefinger.

"Well, would you look at that," I say with no small amount of wonder in my voice. "Where do you suppose that came from?"

"Sharon, you're not fooling me."

The End

Thank you so much for reading my totally fiction story with Duff's characters that do NOT belong to me, and a few who live only in my mind. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks RockinRobinB for being awesome. Also, thanks to all who took the time to send reviews and comments. Much love 'til next time.


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